


Can I be close to you?

by adjit



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 5+1 Things, 5+1 kisses, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Navigating the not-quite-lovers-yet relationship, YOI Secret Santa 2018, you want some soft shit? I got some soft shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 18:33:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17289218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adjit/pseuds/adjit
Summary: 5 times Victor kissed Yuuri and 1 time VictorkissedYuuri.





	Can I be close to you?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lauravian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauravian/gifts).



> A [yoisecretsanta18](https://yoisecretsanta18.tumblr.com/) gift for [@lauravian](https://twitter.com/laulauravian)! I'm so sorry for the lateness of the work, it's been a hectic month for me, but I hope that you'll still enjoy the domestic sweetness to come. I was so excited to get you as my giftee and I loved your prompt, I hope I did it some justice.
> 
> Title from [Bloom by Paper Kites](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU)! It's a very soft and sweet song, give it a listen if you haven't before.

1.

Yuuri carefully keeps his eyes on Victor, and not on his hands nor on Victor’s hands, and _especially_ not on how Victor’s hand is still wrapped around his own. He absolutely doesn’t look at that.

In the last moments of his poor overheated brain’s life, it manages to produce a question: how’d he get here?

Victor was touchy as always, moving him this way and that like his own personal puppet, trying to show him some choreography, and that was fine. That was normal. It was overwhelming at the very beginning, but Yuuri is almost completely desensitized to it after months of constant Victor contact. But then, just now, as they moved onto talking through the program and discussing options, Victor didn’t pull his hand away. And that’s less fine and normal.

It has to be a mistake, right? It’s just Victor absent-mindedly forgetting to move his hand away. Which is why Yuuri is pretending it’s not happening, and not paying attention to how nice the warmth of his hands feels in the cold of rink, how smooth his skin is, how Victor will squeeze his hand just a little to emphasize certain points as he speaks. He really should listen to what Victor is saying instead of nodding vaguely, but it’s probably fine. Probably. He’ll go over it again later to make sure.

God how are Viktor’s hands so soft?

“Okay, that’s enough for today,” Victor says happily, finally snapping Yuuri out of his haze. And Yuuri is already mourning the loss, thinking that Victor is about to let go of his hand, that he almost misses what Victor does right before he lets go.

He stares at Victor’s retreating back, and then his gaze slowly is drawn to the tip of his finger. It’s almost as if he can still feel the slight warmth and the fleeting imprint of soft lips on it.

Was that light kiss an accident too?

“Are you coming?” Victor pauses and cocks his head, looking back at Yuuri, who still hasn’t moved.

Yuuri stares at him in confusion for just a moment before he shakes his head and decides to think about it later. He finally catches up to Victor, shooting him a smile. “I’m right behind you.”

 

2.

Yuuri blinks, noting with dismay how hard it is to open his eyes again once they’d closed. Victor doesn’t seem to notice, still shifting through the notes in front of him. Despite the late hour, Yuuri refuses to give in. He’d stayed up much later than this while working on his degree. And Victor, that damned morning person, is still awake. This is his pride as a night owl on the line.

Never mind the fact that Yuuri had barely slept the past two nights. The moment he stood up to go back to his room was the moment he lost.

That’s his last thought before sleep takes him, an irony that would stay locked inside his own head and never be told to anyone.

The next morning, Yuuri wakes in his own bed. His brain tries to fill in the gaps of the night before, the part of him that valiantly tried to stay conscious against the heaviness of his own body giving him hazy flashes of memory.

He’d slumped over onto Victor, and the other had finally stopped working and looked over at him. And then kept looking, a thought which makes him flush with happiness, though he’s sure it was probably because he was drooling or something equally stupid.

A vague amount of time later had Victor getting him into his bed, half supporting him and half carrying him there, jostling him just enough to wake him a little. The smile he remembers on Victor’s face as he finally laid him down was entirely too soft, and his half-asleep self had probably matched it. And then there was something said in Russian, and the soft pressure of lips on his forehead, and he drifted off to sleep again with a hand lightly stroking his hair.

He covers his face as he thinks about it, rubbing his eyes. He’s not really remembering it right, boundary between dreams and reality was too thin when he was barely awake like that.

But he remembers the feeling of being safe and warm, of being cared for gently and how easy everything felt, and he thinks that even if that was a dream, it was a very good one.

 

3.

Yuuri tugs at the edge of his beanie, pulling it down over the tops of his reddening ears.

“Are you really that cold?” Victor asks, smile wide enough that Yuuri narrows his eyes.

“I lived in Detroit, I know how to handle winter.”

“Then why are you so cold already?” Victor’s smile gets just a bit wider, and Yuuri turns away.

He tugs on the edge of his beanie again. “I’m not that cold.”

“Your ears and nose are turning red.” Victor’s finger reaches for his ear, but Yuuri swats it away.

“That’s a bodily reaction.”

“You can just say you’re cold.” Victor leans down just a bit, so that they’re face to face, and Yuuri narrows his eyes further. Viktor’s grin is still entirely too pleased.

“Your nose is redder than mine is,” Yuuri points out.

“My skin is fairer.” Now Victor’s eyes are sparkling, too. Yuuri cannot grasp what Victor is getting out of this teasing.

“So skin tone is a factor now too?”

“Yuuri, just say you’re cold.”

“Now I feel like I’ll lose if I do.”

“Of course you’ll lose, I’m Russian.”

Yuuri purses his lips, and doesn’t reply. Victor only laughs, and then leans forward and plants a kiss on the red tip of Yuuri’s nose.

“You’re no fun,” he says as he straightens up. Yuuri is frozen for a second, but quickly gets a hold of himself.

He turns around so Victor can’t see the rest of his face turning red as he replies, “Sure, sure.”

 

4.

Makkachin eyes the treat in Victor’s hand warily. She had been running away from him for a while now, but just when she thought he’d finally given up, he’d reappeared with food. Her eyes shine as she stares at it, slowly approaching him. He takes a step forward and she darts back again, instantly on guard, tail wagging just a little because the game of chase, while probably life or death, is also very fun.

Victor gives her a dramatic sigh, but doesn’t move this time, and she begins inching forward again. Seeing him not moving, she finally snatches the treat out of his hand and is about to gleefully run away when she feels a pair of arms encircle her. She looks around in surprise, and finally realizes that she’s been tricked! Bamboozled! Betrayed! Yuuri is acting as an accomplice!

“Finally! Thank you,” Victor says. “Can you keep a hold on her?”

Makkachin shoots Yuuri her cutest look, licking his face to distract him, but he doesn’t let go, just laughs. “Of course,” he says, smiling at Victor. Traitor.

Makkachin whimpers, but neither of her captors pay any heed to the pitiful sound. She tries once more to wriggle away, but Yuuri’s firm grip doesn’t waver. Still, she doesn’t entirely resign herself to her fate, keeping her eyes on Victor as he approaches her. She pulls back, trying to get as far away from him as possible, but even with all her effort, she can’t stop it from happening.

“It’s just a brush, Makka! We’re just making you pretty!” Yuuri coos from behind her, and Victor sighs dramatically once more.

“I have tried to reason with her plenty of times, Yuuri, but she’s convinced it’s a torture device.” He pulls the brush through Makkachin’s curls, gently untangling mats. Makkachin is now frozen, staring off into the distance tragically. “Sometimes I just give up and wait until she gets groomed, but I really don’t want her to get too messy.”

“It seems to be a two man job, so I can see why you’d wait.”

“But now you’re here to help me, so there’s nothing to worry about anymore!”

Both unnoticed by the other, and for just a moment, Victor and Yuuri are caught up in their own heads, thinking about the words that Victor carelessly said, and thinking about the difference between the present moment and the future. They haven’t talked about it yet. They won’t, until much later.

Makkachin, with no sympathy for this kind of drama, takes this moment to valiantly struggle once more, flailing and throwing her weight around.

This time, Yuuri is distracted enough that she breaks free, though not without casualties. In her mad bid for freedom, she throws three things into disarray. The brush flies into the next room, Victor gets knocked to the floor, and Yuuri gets pushed on top of Victor. Victor catches himself, but Yuuri’s head knocks into Victor’s and they both go down hard.

Yuuri groans, momentarily stunned. Victor reaches up to rub his chin, but he can’t stop the laugh from bubbling over.

“We lost this round.”

Yuuri groans again, not bothering to move yet. “A dog just kicked my ass.”

Victor pats his shoulder solemnly. “A dog just kicked _our_ asses.”

Yuuri laughs, shifting and looking up at Victor. He reaches up to the place where his head met Victor’s jaw, touching it lightly. “Do you think it’ll bruise?” The tip of his finger lingers on the lightly reddened skin.

Victor doesn’t respond, and when he looks up to meet Victor’s eyes, they’re not looking back. They’re looking just a little bit lower. Yuuri licks his lips by reflex.

Victor finally looks up to meet his gaze, and Yuuri opens his mouth to say something, but loses his nerve and closes it again. The space between them is rapidly diminishing, and Yuuri’s brain is bluescreening.

Something warm and wet licks its way across his entire face, and Yuuri freezes.

“Makkachin!” Victor says with a tone of fond exasperation. “Were we ignoring you for too long?”

Without anyone to pursue her, Makkachin had quickly grown bored of the other room, but seeing the two of them still on the floor meant that surely they were down there to play with her! She turns to Victor this time, tail wagging as he kneads at her head.

Yuuri quickly retracts his arm and pulls himself upright, away from Victor. He glances over at Victor, but the other doesn’t meet his eyes.

Yuuri smiles, just a little bit regretfully, before reaching out and scratching Makkachin’s ears. “Sorry, Makka, will you ever forgive us?”

She turns to him and licks him again.

 

5.

“Why is your skin so cold?” Victor asks with a smile, running his hands up and down Yuuri’s foot as if trying to warm him up.

Victor’s hands feel like brands when they touch his skin. Yuuri moves to pull back, but Victor’s grip is firm and doesn’t let him escape.

Yuuri looks down at Victor, seated in front of him with his legs crossed and Yuuri’s feet in his lap, bandages and medicine directly next to him, and can’t help but feel helpless against the man before him. “It’s winter,” he replies lamely, but Victor only tsks and keeps up with his gentle ministrations. He never asks Victor for this, but Victor always notices when it’s needed, and he always insists on taking care of it despite any of Yuuri’s protests.

They fall into silence as Victor continues his work, Yuuri unable to do anything but watch. The light in Victor’s room is low, orange-yellow lamplight throwing dramatic shadows across Victor’s face, his every move emphasized by the rippling of the shadows thrown on the wall behind him. The room is quiet, just the sounds of movement and breathing, the windows shaking lightly when the wind blows outside. Even the room inside is a little cold, the winter night air permeating everywhere and spreading its chill. But Victor’s hands and gaze are warm, and the air between them is comfortable.

Yuuri knows that this Victor is one that no one else has ever seen. Maybe they’ve seen the focus before, the confidence in his movements, but they’ve never seen his eyes so soft, his hands so gentle. That part of Victor is his, for now.

As Victor finishes up, he looks over his work with satisfaction, and Yuuri shoots him a smile. Victor leans down and presses a light kiss to his ankle, a movement he’s done before, but when he does it here, in this dimly lit room on a cold winter night, it feels a little different than when he’s sitting in a kiss and cry. But it’s still just a fleeting moment, and then he’s offering his hand to Victor, pulling him up so he can stand, and then it’s gone.

 

+1.

When Victor jumps at him, Yuuri feels the emotions burst like fireworks in his chest. He’s feeling too much all at once, all bubbling together under his skin and he can’t separate it out or put it into words, and he doesn’t have enough time before he’s falling.

There’s the heady feeling of accomplishment of finishing a program, and there’s the sturdy push of Victor’s body against his. There’s the sparkling bright giddiness that comes from knowing he’s surprised Victor, and there’s the crisp air of the rink whistling past his body. There’s the warm and gauzy feeling in his chest that he’s decided to call love, and there’s Victor’s lips on his, gentle despite their urgency. There’s more, so much more, but then there’s the impact of the ice of the rink against his back, and a hand cradling his head and keeping him safe. And there’s a moment where there’s nothing important in the world except for him and Victor, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> For more soft shit come find me on [tumblr](https://adjit.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/adjitay)!


End file.
